Abortion, Unwanted Pregnancy, and the Really Big Questions

As the Supreme Court revisits the abortion debate with the case of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, let’s consider a broader and more systematic point of view.  Abortion is not a first choice or a best choice.  No woman gets pregnant intending to have an abortion.  Rather, abortion comes up as a choice only after something else has gone wrong. 

Outlawing abortion is a simplistic solution to a complex problem.  The problem is unwanted pregnancy—and any solution to that problem must involve many significant changes in our social lives that would need to occur to make unwanted pregnancies less likely.  This is related to the idea that abortion should be “legal but rare,” an idea I have discussed in more detail elsewhere.

The legal debate involves complex Constitutional questions.  Was the right to privacy articulated in Roe v. Wade wrongly “invented” by the Court in its 1973 decision, as conservatives argue?  What is the status of Roe as a precedent?   How does the idea of a right to privacy connect with other issues involving sex, marriage, and family law?

Those legal questions are different from the really big moral questions.  A fundamental moral question is “who counts as a moral patient?” This begs us to consider what kind of being a fetus is (and at what stage in its development it attains moral status).  The moral status of a fetus relates to the rights of its mother.  This includes the fact that the fetus is entirely dependent upon her.  I discuss these issues in much more detail in my ethics textbook and in a recent column

Abortion is considered as an exception to the general idea that pregnancy usually is a positive thing.  It is usually good to give birth.  But some pregnancies are unwanted.  One significant issue is pregnancy that results from rape and incest.  Another issue involves pregnancies that can harm a mother.  Another issue involves disabled fetuses.  And then there are cases in which a woman is just not ready—economically or psychologically—to become a mother.  Pregnancy can occur at the wrong time or for the wrong reasons.  And pregnant women can encounter physiological, psychological, economic, and social hardships.

What kind of a social world would we have to create so that unwanted pregnancy could be avoided and those hardships could be ameliorated?

Such a world would involve free and easy access to birth control and sex education—beginning at the age at which conception can occur.  This would empower women to avoid pregnancy in the first place.  A changed world would involve the end of sexual manipulation and deception.  This is not only about rape but also about less violent forms of sexual exploitation and coercion that occur in a world where women are objectified and manipulated by men into having sex.  A world with fewer abortions would be a world in which women had power over their lives, the bodies, and their sexuality.

Other issues arise in relation to fetal abnormality and women’s health.  A world with fewer abortions would include much better healthcare.  This better world would remedy environmental factors that contribute to fetal abnormality and unhealthy pregnancies.  Such a world would also provide substantial supports for disabled children and their families.  And in such a world, women’s health would be prioritized throughout a woman’s life.

Of course, this is not our world.  We live in a world in which women are objectified and manipulated into sex.  We live in a world in which sexual education often fails to enlighten and in which no one really discusses sexual ethics.  In our world, birth control is often not easily available.  We live in a world in which poverty, pollution, and lack of healthcare afflict far too many women and families.   

As the Court revisits Roe v. Wade, let’s also reconsider our social world.  The Court will decide a narrow question of whether states can limit or ban abortion.  This will not make unwanted pregnancies go away.  Even if Roe is overturned, illegal abortions will occur in states that ban it and women who want abortions (and can afford it) will travel to states that are more permissive. 

Meanwhile, in the background are significant social problems that come to a head in the issue of unwanted pregnancy.  Let’s work to solve those problems by empowering women, providing better sexual education (including education about sexual ethics and birth control), and by imagining substantial changes in our economic and healthcare systems. 

Be Thoughtful About Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving provides an opportunity to reflect on gratitude.  I’ve written a number of columns over the years about Thanksgiving and the spirit of gratitude.  It is good to be grateful.  But gratitude requires honesty.  And giving thanks should be grounded in truth. 

It is possible, after all, for gratitude to be mistaken.  We can thank the wrong person, for example.  Or we can misunderstand what we are thankful for.  Gratitude misfires, for example, if I thank someone for a gift that they did not give me.  We’ve got to get the facts right, when we express gratitude.  We also need a correct interpretation of those facts.

Nor does it make sense to be thankful for “bad gifts.”  It is not appropriate to give an alcoholic booze for his Christmas.  Nor should a drunk really be thankful for such a present.  Gift-giving and thankfulness imply that the gift is beneficial and represents goodwill.

Moreover, saying thanks does not justify misdeeds.  If someone eats the pumpkin pie on my plate without my consent, saying “thanks” does not make the theft OK.

All of this is especially important at Thanksgiving, when our rituals are infused with misleading myths that conceal terrible misdeeds

The Thanksgiving myth celebrates religious freedom and hospitable relations between European settlers and Native Americans.  These are noble ideas.  Religious liberty ought to be celebrated.  And hospitality is important.  Unfortunately, both ideas are mythological when it comes to the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. 

The Christian colonizers viewed the natives as heathens.  The colonizers did not respect indigenous religions.  Nor did the Puritan colonists tolerate Christian dissenters: Quakers were persecuted in New England, as were figures such as Roger Williams and Ann Hutchinson (see Smithsonian for details). When it comes to religious liberty today, it is the First Amendment we ought to thank—not the Pilgrims. 

The European colonists were not friendly to the natives.  Columbus himself began the process of enslaving the natives on American mines and plantations, while also exporting slaves to Europe. The African slave trade grew as the Native America slaves began to die out from European diseases. 

By the time the Pilgrims landed over 100 years after Columbus, European diseases had already decimated native populations.  The land of the Pilgrim’s pride had originally been cleared by natives who had recently died. 

The Pilgrims were aided in their settlement by Squanto, a native American who had been taken to Europe as a slave.  Squanto returned to his homeland only to find that his tribe was dead from disease.

There is even more to the story.  I recommend Loewen’s “Lies My Teacher Told Me” as a useful source that dispells the myths of the first Thanksgiving and discloses the horrible truths of European colonialism.

Now let’s ask what we should be thankful for today about this history.

Should we be thankful that Native peoples such as Squanto were enslaved—and thus had the linguistic skills that allowed him to help the Pilgrims? 

Should we be thankful for the plague that killed the Indians before the Pilgrims arrived?  In 1629, John Winthrop seemed to thank God for that “miraculous” plague that left the country “void of inhabitants.”  Is it appropriate to thank God for the diseases that depopulated the continent?

These questions remind us that not everyone views Thanksgiving as a time of celebration.  Native American activists have declared this a “day of mourning.”  A plaque commemorating this reads: “Thanksgiving Day is a reminder of the genocide of millions of Native people, the theft of Native lands, and the relentless assault on Native culture.”

Some might conclude that this shows that gratitude is relative.  Not everyone will be grateful for the same thing. 

There is some truth here.  But relativism is a cop out.  Objective facts matter when it comes to gratitude.  The more important problem is that we can be mistaken in our gratitude and misled by our myths.  These mistakes can lead us to give thanks for the wrong things.

And so, as we enter into the holiday season, let’s enjoy giving gifts and giving thanks.  But let’s be careful about the gifts we give.  And let’s be thoughtful about what we are thankful for. 

An Atheist at the Parliament of the World’s Religions

I participated in the (October 2021) meeting of the Parliament of the World’s Religions on a panel focused on compassion as a religious and non-religious value. I represented the non-religious point of view in conversation with Dr. Peter Admirand (Dublin City University, and my co-author on Seeking Common Ground), Dr. Veena Howard (a scholar of South Asian religions and my colleague at Fresno State), and Dr. Laura Novak Winer (a rabbi and a professor at Hebrew Union College ).

Earlier that morning, the Dalai Lama had addressed the Parliament. He said, “all religions have something to teach us.” And, “the essence of all religious teaching is compassion.”

Dalai Lama at Parliament of World’s Religions 2021

This important claim asks us to think critically about the long history of religious violence and intolerance. It may be the case that compassion is taught in every religion. But religious people can fail to be compassionate.

The same point is true, of course, for non-religious people. Secular regimes can lack compassion. And atheists can be cold-hearted.

But there is a place for compassion in atheism. Atheists emphasize the fact of human mortality. We all suffer and die. There is no sense in adding to the cruelty of the world. Rather, we should avoid violence and spread good will.

Atheists should acknowledge that human brains and bodies have evolved to include a substantial place for compassion and communal feeling. We are social animals thrown onto a small planet in the middle of the vastness. We should find way to laugh and sing and mourn together (an idea I’ve explored in my book Compassion).

These shared experiences are a focus of religious life. One need not accept the metaphysical pronouncements of religious traditions in order to understand that compassion is good for us and that love and community help us live well.

Unfortunately, the philosophical tradition has often looked askance at compassion. Kantian morality is focused on universal duty detached from emotion. Such an approach may dismiss compassion as a soft, emotional value.

Kant also dismissed the extravagant claims of superstitious religion. In defending his idea of a “pure religion” of reason (in Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason), Kant espoused a religion “cleansed of the nonsense of superstition and the madness of enthusiasm.”

Humanistic ethics has evolved to include much more than Kantian universality. We know that compassion is an important part of ethics. And we should understand that people find meaning in religion without simply dismissing it as superstition and nonsense.

This is one reason it is important for atheists, humanists, and philosophers to participate in inter-religious and interfaith dialogue. It is not easy to dismiss another person’s faith when you know them as a real person. Interfaith and inter-religious conversations are promoting solidarity in a world that still includes much religious intolerance. Atheists and humanists need to participate in these conversations because there is often intolerance and misunderstanding across the religious/nonreligious divide.

There are challenges, of course. Atheists sometimes seem to enjoy picking fights with religious believers. Religious people sometimes sling mud in the direction of atheism. I think we should all be more tolerant, hospitable, and compassionate.

This does not mean that we ignore the fundamental disagreements between religious and nonreligious people. But it is possible to be compassionate in our disagreements. Each of us is trying to make sense of life. Some find answers in religion, in all of its complex variety. Others turn away from religion entirely. So long as there is no violence, oppression, and hostility, we can co-exist. And if we take the time to listen to one another, we might find common ground in the shared human struggle to learn, love, and live.

If you are interested in these issues, please join me as I discuss our new book, Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue with Peter Admirand, at a book launch and panel discussion on November 4, 11:30AM Pacific Time. The panel will be in Dublin, Ireland. I’ll join by Zoom. For Zoom details, contact Peter Admirand: peter.admirand@dcu.ie.

Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue

I’m pleased to announce the publication of a new book , Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue, that I’ve co-authored with Peter Admirand, a Catholic theologian at Dublin City University. We worked together to think about our differences and what we share in common.

I’m an atheist. Peter is a believer. We disagree about some important and fundamental things. But we share the belief that dialogue and mutual understanding are crucially important in our polarized and divided world.

The book is framed by seven virtues of dialogue: curiosity, compassion, and courage, as well as honesty, honoring our commitments, humility, and the desire for harmony. If more people exercised these virtues the world might be a better place. The goal is not to erase our differences but, rather, to journey together to find common ground.

The book includes some biographical tidbits. I share the story of how I came to realize that I am more humanist than theist, a nonbeliever who remains interested in all of the world’s religions. As I explain, this was not a spectacular conversion from theism to atheism. Rather, it was a slow realization that the religion I was raised with no longer spoke to me.

Peter, of course, tells a different story. Our differences emerge in chapters that discuss the meaning of curiosity, compassion, and courage, as well honesty, humility, honor, and harmony. It was eye-opening to engage in this process with Peter.

The book ends with an account of letters (well, emails) we exchanged. We discovered a common love of music, a common love of friends and families, and a common concern about the crises emerging around us.

As I say, in the conclusion, I think we succeeded in finding common ground. But this does not mean that the conversation is over. Rather, there is alway more to be learned.

We were fortunate to have Rabbi Jack Moline, the President of the American Interfaith Alliance write a Foreword to the book. Peter and I are both engaged in interfaith and inter-religious work. We both think that this work needs to involve atheists, secularists, and humanists as well as members of the world’s diverse faith communities.

You can buy the book on Amazon or from Wipf and Stock Books.

The Just War Myth and the War in Afghanistan

The conclusion of two decades of American war in Afghanistan reminds us that war is rarely justified.  A just war responds to aggression or defends human rights.  Just wars should be fought for noble intentions.  Just warriors should avoid deliberately harming noncombatants.  Just warriors should not use torture or commit war crimes.  And a just war should leave the world better off.

In Afghanistan, more than 150,000 people were killed.  This includes Taliban fighters, Afghan government forces, and an estimated 47,000 civilians.  Nearly 2,500 American soldiers were killed.  Trillions were spent.  Millions were displaced, including 2.6 million Afghan refugees. 

It is not clear this was worth it, morally speaking.

This is not to say that the American soldiers who fought, bled, and died in “the war on terror” did anything wrong.  Individual soldiers do not decide where to fight.  In our democratic system, that decision is made by civilian leaders who are accountable to “we, the people.” 

We asked our soldiers to fight in a war that was morally suspect from the beginning.  We should apologize.  In addition to saying “thank you for your service,” we should say, “I’m sorry.”  And we must add, in addressing our veterans, “it is not your fault.”

Retrospective analysis is fraught with difficulties.  But it was not clear from the beginning that an all-out invasion of Afghanistan was a proportional response to the attacks of September 11, 2001.  The Taliban regime was not responsible for 9/11.  It is true that Osama bin Ladin was hiding out in Afghanistan.  But it was overkill to invade an entire country in order to root out terrorists.  Critical voices argued, even in 2001, that a more targeted and proportional response would have been wiser.

It is also important to consider whether sustained and well-funded nonviolent alternatives to war could have been efficacious.  What kinds of nonviolent terrorism prevention programs could have been funded with the trillions of dollars spent in Afghanistan?

The Taliban was (and is) undemocratic and repressive.  It could be argued that removing the Taliban was justified in defense of human rights.  But nation-building wars are much more difficult to justify and to win, as Afghanistan and Iraq show.  As we’ve learned in both cases, the regimes we installed suffered from corruption as well as a lack of legitimacy and popular support.

From the beginning our intentions were mixed.  Some wanted revenge for 9/11.  Some wanted to “drain the swamp” harboring terrorists.  Some wanted to create democracy.  There were also strategic considerations involving Iran, Russia, Pakistan, and China, linked to the neoconservative desire to assert American supremacy around the globe.

Along the way, atrocities were committed.  Lies were told.  Goodwill was squandered.  Contractors enriched themselves.  And brave men and women lost limbs and lives. 

In 2007, I offered a critical analysis of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, where I showed the problem of “the just war myth.”  The just war myth evolves from wishful thinking about war.  We want to believe that war can be easily justified.  We want to believe that we are the good guys who win the wars we fight because of our moral superiority.  Those are illusions.

We also want to believe that civilian and military leaders are wise and moral.  We want to believe that our leaders know what they are doing, that they are concerned with morality, and that they are not merely playing politics with the lives of our soldiers. 

Our trust in the probity and sagacity of our leaders is broken after years of polarization.  This should undermine our faith in the just war myth.  This does not mean one must affirm absolute pacifism.  Rather, it means we should be more critical of war and more vigilant. 

We, the people must say “never again” to ill-advised and unjust wars.  We should be skeptical of militaristic rhetoric and simplistic narratives that divide the world into good guys and bad guys.  We should question the idea that war can be an effective tool for promoting democracy.  And we should educate ourselves about the importance of nonviolent alternatives to war.

This critical perspective is offered in solidarity with the soldiers who fought and died during the past 20 years.  It is offered on behalf of the next generation of warriors who will be asked to bleed on our behalf.  It is offered with compassionate concern for the men, women, and children who suffer the horrors of war.